Canderous Cares
by Elriel Xillow-Onasi
Summary: After his efforts aboard the Ebon Hawk in Parallel Bars, our favourite Mandalorian takes a job as Agony Aunt for the Nar Shaddaa Gazette
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This short piece is kind of riding on the back of my first story, Parallel Bars. Canderous had become quite a sounding board for Elriel on the Hawk and it inspired me to let him take his agony aunt skills further! If there are any references anybody doesn't understand then read Parallel Bars.**

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Nar Shaddaa Gazette

Editorial

It has been a very exciting week for us here at the Nar Shadaa Gazette with the arrival of our long-awaited guest writer, Mr Canderous Ordo! Having recently concluded the book tour in conjunction with his latest self-help bestseller, Canderous is generously offering his services to you, our readers, for a limited time. If you have a problem and you need a solution, put it on a datapad and send it in to _Canderous Cares_, c/o Nar Shaddaa Gazette. Turn to page 32 for the first exciting instalment…

Canderous Cares

Dear Canderous,

Please help. I seem to be cursed by terrible luck with women. Quite some time ago now I married a wonderful woman but tragically she died when the Sith bombed Telos and I wasn't there in time to save her. A few years later I met this amazing woman who I helped save the galaxy with. I fell madly in love with her, despite some revelations about her slightly sordid past. Unfortunately, she went off on some ill-advised solo mission to rid the galaxy of evil and never returned. I'm pretty sure she's dead too. I hope so, at least. That sounds bad but it's only that if she isn't dead then she's traded me in for a younger pilot, which would piss me right off. Anyway, another gorgeous woman, not unlike the second, has come into my life and I'd really like to get something going with her. The problem is that I'm a little paranoid by nature and I just don't know if I can trust that she too won't come to a tragic end. I mean, I'm not going to stay this gorgeous forever so I really have to grab the bantha by the horns soon. What do you suggest?

Tormented in Telos

_Well, Tormented, it really does look as though women are dying to get away from you, quite literally! Are you sure both these past loves are actually dead though? It's very possible that they faked their own deaths in order to avoid an awkward conversation. Either way, this suggests to me a sexual problem. You are clearly so lousy in bed that your partners are either allowing themselves to be killed or staging elaborate death scenes to get shot of you. I would suggest you pick up a copy of my bestseller, 'How to Make a Woman Scream Herself Hoarse', before you make any moves on this new lady in your life. If that doesn't do the trick, nothing will. Having said that, your references to being "gorgeous" and saving the galaxy lead me to believe you may be somewhat delusional. Do you have a picture of me stuck on your mirror or something? If so, take it off, have a good look at yourself and come back to live in the real world with the rest of us._

Dear Canderous,

I am struggling with an unusual problem. I have an ever increasing loathing for pilots which I just can't seem to shake. I believe it stems from the fact that the only two women I have ever loved (beautiful Jedi specimens) both spurned my affections and ran off with pilots. I've been trying to be a good person for such a long time now but this flyboy hatred is really setting me back. It's got to the stage that I can't even be in the same room with one of the arrogant, sleazy, womanizing space-hoppers without wanting to spill his entrails on the floor and dance a Tarisian Polka all over them. I'm sure this is not healthy. Any suggestions?

Irritated Iridorian

_I certainly do have a couple of suggestions, Irritated. The first is by far the most simple solution. If you have a recurring pattern of being attracted to women who are hot for pilots then why not become a pilot? If you can't spill their entrails, join 'em! That may not, however, solve the problem. You say your two loves were beautiful Jedis, and we all know how delectable __**those**__ babes can be. It could be that you're punching a bit above your weight. Next time you have an itch needing scratched, try a Gammorrean chick. They're not at all fussy. Lastly, if it's just the case that your wooing techniques leave a bit to be desired, I'd get yourself a copy of my prize-winning publication, 'Get Your Coat NOW, bitch!….And Other Great Pick-Up Lines'._

Dear Canderous,

I am so ashamed of myself. I am a fallen woman! I used to pride myself on my morals and had my feet firmly on the path of the light side. I think I may even have mildly irritated my companions from time to time when pointing out their flaws, in comparison to my unattainable perfection. This perfection, however, appeared to go unnoticed by some. On my last mission from the Jedi Council, the only desirable man in my party ended up falling for another female companion, NOT ME! This was bad enough but what made matters worse was that the companion in question was the former Dark Lord of the Sith! How could this happen?

Speaking of the Sith, along the way I was captured by Darth Malak (before his demise, obviously). I had always prided myself on my resistance to the dark side of the Force but, I am humiliated to admit, he turned me in about five minutes. It wasn't really my fault! He tortured me for a bit which I found strangely…exciting, and there was just something about him I found quite sexy. He told me if I came to the dark side I'd have men queuing at the door. What could I do? Thankfully my aforementioned female companion turned me back towards the light and all ended well. It did cause me a good deal of shame and embarrassment though. So much so that I ended up getting drunk and spending the night with a most uncouth and inappropriate man. I have fallen so far down from the pedestal I put myself on. What can I do?

Joyless Jedi

_Methinks the lady doth protest too much – though a lady she ain't. If that is who I think it is then I would say this: quit whining you filthy little Jedi minx! You loved every minute of it. I didn't know you'd enjoyed Malak's torture so much though, which is a shame. This tells me that you have something of an S&M inclination. My advice to you is to get off your high horse, grab yourself some chains and a gag and get yourself over to Nar Shaddaa pronto! I'll be waiting._

Dear Canderous,

When are you coming home next? You're always off on book tours and what not and I never get to see you. Last time you said you were coming to visit I had your favourite Ronto pie all ready and you didn't show up. If you won't come to us, perhaps your father and I will come to Nar Shaddaa to see you. I hope you are being a good boy and not gambling or hanging around with women of dubious morals. You'll see the back of my hand if you are, young man! See you soon.

P.S I've knitted a nice warm jumper for you so I'll bring that with me when we visit.

_MUM! I've told you not to contact me at work! Don't come and visit! I mean, I'm not going to be here for very long. Thank you for knitting the jumper. Just send it to me via the Gazette. No, I'm not gambling or fraternizing with loose women. DON'T COME HERE!_

_Your loving son, Canderous._

Canderous' Thoughts for the Week

If this week's pathetic losers are anything to go by, I can only say that real men are hard to find these days. It's just as well I've taken to devoting my time to helping you clueless wimps or where would you be? As our penultimate letter clearly indicates, women love a b**t*rd, which is perfectly illustrated in my excellent book, 'Women Love a B**t*rd'. All you nancy boys should pick one up. Available at all good stores for 50 credits. This is Canderous signing off for this week. Keep your letters coming, deadbeats. Remember, I'm here if you want something done right.

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Author's Note: Review at will, but also, if any readers have any problems they'd like to PM me, I can forward them on to Candy-man for you and put them in a following chapter ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Canderous Cares – Week 2

Another week, another horde of people with problems to put to our favourite agony uncle, Canderous! He's hot! He's happening! He'll hit you where it hurts! Be careful what you ask for or he might just give it to you! Turn to page 36 for this week's _Canderous Cares_!

Canderous Cares

Disclaimer: I just want to take an opportunity to assure my readers that I was in no way involved in writing that crap on the first page. I don't know who writes this shit, but it certainly isn't me. I, for one thing, know there is a time and a place for exclamation marks and use them sparingly. Now, on to this week's whining babies…

Dear Canderous

This is all very complicated, so I apologise, but I'm a bit concerned. My boyfriend and I went off on a mission to the Unknown Regions a while back which proved very successful. Among other things, I found an old friend of mine out there, a female Jedi I hadn't seen in ages. After our mission was completed, I had a bit of soul searching to do so I found another ship and left my companions. Last I knew, my boyfriend and my Jedi pal were heading to Telos, where the Jedi's boyfriend was eagerly awaiting her return. When I eventually got back to Telos, said boyfriend gave me the terrible news that they had both died on their journey home. Obviously this was all very sad, but he and I were a great comfort to each other and now I think we're well on our way to falling in love. The problem is this. I have a great command of the Force, as does my missing bloke and particularly the Jedi woman. If they had died, I'm pretty sure I would have felt it. If, then, they have not, what am I supposed to think? And how can I progress my new relationship knowing that at any time one or both of them could turn up?

Embarrassed Exile

_Sheesh, another one? You should get together with that cream puff from last week whose women kept faking their deaths/committing suicide to get rid of him. If they are not dead – and I seriously doubt they are – then your answer is glaringly obvious. They have run away together. Why in Ordo's name would you leave your boyfriend alone with another woman to go on a navel-gazing trip around the galaxy anyway? It's your own damned fault, if you ask me. This does, at least, solve part of your problem as you can bet neither of them will be turning up on your doorstep any time soon so feel free to get jiggy with your new man. If the sting of being so cruelly dumped still hasn't faded, get yourself 'Done, Done, Onto the Next One', my no nonsense guide to moving on when you're other half has left you/died/turned into a Sith Dark Lord etc. Though, if you're feeling in a vindictive mood you could always pick up a few tips from my 'Cut His Balls Off With a Rusty Knife: The Ultimate Jilted Girl's Handbook'._

Dear Problem-Solving Meatbag

Dispirited Confession: Once upon a time, my existence was full of the joy and satisfaction of blasting meatbags on a daily basis. I had a particularly wonderful Master who possessed a malicious streak a mile wide. There were no end to the meatbags she required sadistically dismembered on a daily basis. Unfortunately, we were separated for a period of time and when, fortuitously, my Master reacquired my services, she was drastically altered – and not in a good way. Revoltingly enough, she had mysteriously picked up a conscience in her travels and had become a good and kind person. Disheartening as this was, my Master still had many meatbags who wished to kill her so my protocols were still permitted to be utilized, even if only (it disgusts me to say it) in self-defence. Presently, however, the situation has gone from bad to worse. I am currently with her and her latest meatbag love slave on a colossally disgusting unknown planet. It is completely uninhabited so there are NO MEATBAGS TO TERMINATE and my Master and her meatbag friend do virtually nothing all day but stroll along revoltingly pretty beaches and exchange sickening human bodily fluids. I have sand in my circuitry and I am not far away from terminating myself. Please help.

Depressed Droid

_Cheer up, you mopey bag of bolts. I am sure there must be many more meat…er…people left in the galaxy who want to kill your master. If she's as unpopular as she sounds, they could well be turning up any day now. Until then, your best bet would be to send for a copy of my top grossing 'A Droid Is For Life, Not Just For Christmas' which you can present to the selfish gits. With luck it will make them see the error of their ways. If not, try making a habit of bursting in on them and firing blaster bolts into the ceiling every time they're "exchanging sickening human bodily fluids". They'll soon find you something to occupy your time. _

Dear Canderous

To put it bluntly, I recently ran away with another man's girlfriend. I'd like to be able to say I'm sorry about that but, in all honestly, I'm not in the least. She's the most wonderful woman I have ever met – beautiful, sexy, deadly as hell with a lightsaber, everything a guy could ever want. It had all been going so well for us since we did a runner, but then last night when we were doing the horizontal tango she called out her ex-boyfriend's name! She apologized like crazy, of course, and put it down to a temporary memory blip but I can't help feeling a little unmanned by the whole thing. What should I do?

Perplexed Pilot

_Well, Perplexed, __you__ stole her, you sneaky little cad – for which I must admit, I commend you – so deal with it! And if this is who I strongly suspect it is, I do recall many nights not so long ago where I was denied my much needed sleep by the lady in question screaming your name, among other things, at the top of her lovely set of lungs. Many men would kill to be in your position(s) so quit sniveling like a kid who's dropped his sweets! Talking of killing, by the way, I have reason to believe your droid is one romantic sunset away from blasting you both into next week. Find the poor guy something to shoot or send him back to me and I will._

My Dearest Canderous

Imagine my delight last week when I saw that you had actually printed my letter in the Gazette! I had the girls round for a caffa morning the very next day and my were they jealous! Especially that spiteful old witch Elna from the Keilton Clan. A couple of them did notice, however, that you were sounding a bit tetchy. Are you sure you're alright, son? Are you eating properly? I really think your father and I should hop on a shuttle and come and take care of you for a couple of weeks. It'd be no trouble. Maeril's son is getting married, by the way! When are you going to find yourself a nice girl and settle down? I long to hear the pitter-patter of tiny Ordo feet! You're not getting any younger, you know. I hope you received your jumper. I'm working on a nice scarf and matching pair of mittens for you at the moment now that the nights are getting so cold. I think I should deliver them in person this time.

_Mum, will you STOP sending me letters via The Gazette – you KNOW my Databox number in Nar Shaddaa! It was not my idea to print your letter last week. The editor here has a rather twisted sense of humour and thought it would be side-splittingly funny to publish your letter and force me to respond to it in print. I am really not getting paid enough for this gig. Anyway, look, thank you for the jumper and please just __send__ the scarf and mittens. Nar Shaddaa is not a nice place for a holiday. The place is a hive of scum and villainy, with drinking dens and loose women by the ton – though obviously I have nothing to do with any of that. Really, don't come here. I'm not getting married any time soon either and __stop__ giving my contact details to your friends' daughters! Most of them would make waking up next to a Gammorrean instead of them feel like a lucky night. Remember, send future letters to my Databox. Oh, and DON'T COME HERE._

_Your loving son, Canderous_

Canderous' Thoughts for the Week

The lesson you can all take away from this week's – and indeed last week's - crybabies is that Jedi women are trouble. It strikes me that they are all fickle, over-sexed little minxes and most of you sissies out there can't handle them at all. It has happily inspired me to write yet another book for the benefit of said sissies, entitled 'Drop that Lightsaber and Get Your Clothes Off, Jedi Trollop!' which should provide some pointers. It will be coming to a store near you in a few weeks. Keep the letters coming, pathetic excuses for sentient beings. I'm here if you want something done right.

**Author's Note: Sorry if this one isn't so funny. I've really run out of problems for Candy for the time being so if anyone has any, do feel free to send them in! Also, I keep trying to put extra spaces between the letters using shift and enter but when I save it, it just goes back to how it was, which is odd.**


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